


Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō

by TongueTiedRaven



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Fatherhood, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Leadership, Lies, Minor Character Death, Myōō Dharani, Pre-Canon, Subterfuge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TongueTiedRaven/pseuds/TongueTiedRaven
Summary: Tatsuma Suguro didn’t tell anyone. Who was there to tell? At best he would be grounded at worst… He didn’t know. He just knew it would make grounding look like a relief.He went to school and attended to his prayers. He learned the rituals and tended to the ill. He fell in love and took on the duties of High Priest.Every year the miasma grew worse. Every year the truth of the sword seemed a little louder and his prayers seemed a little weaker.And then he met Shirou Fujimoto and there was no going back to empty prayers.
Relationships: Fujimoto Shirou & Suguro Tatsuma, Suguro Tatsuma & Shima Yaouzou, Suguro Tatsuma/Suguro Torako
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō

It was snowing the day Tatsuma learned the truth. No matter how many days passed between him and that day, he could still close his eyes at any moment and bring the memory to mind. The white covering his temple, the chill in the air, the crunch under his feet, the cloud of mist every breath created.

He had been going to join Yaouzou in a snowman contest. (Another memory he couldn’t forget.) His best friend raced ahead of him while Tatsuma stopped and stared at the snow covered temple. 

Goma-da Hall had looked mystical, almost fairy-tale like. The air was still hazy white from the falling snow creating a chilly fog that obscured everything he could see. The trees surrounding the temple were stark grey silhouettes, gnarled and twisted, like the hands of the oldest members of their temple, fingers stretched towards the heavens in prayer. The only color in the entire scene was the warm orange glow of the windows.

The sacred flame and Kurikara. 

He was, strictly speaking, not allowed in the temple. At least he wasn’t allowed in if he was unaccompanied. Technically  _ no  _ one but the head priest was allowed in. 

Tatsuma was the bocchan though, surely there was some sort of loophole there? It was his job to guard the sword and keep the fire burning. Well, it would be.

His childish mind hadn’t needed any further encouragement. There was no one around to notice and it was his birthright to tend to the sword. 

Tatsuma slipped inside the temple and shivered. He hadn’t understood why as a child. He’d simply dismissed it as the chill of outside. Now, as an adult, he wondered if it hadn’t been the presence of  _ Him.  _

The temple always seemed taller inside than it had been outside. The ceiling stretched over his head, out of reach and blocking him from the cold weight of snow. 

The row of statues on either side kept a silent vigil over the sacred flame and the altar Kurikara sat upon. Their sightless eyes turned towards the sanctuary. 

A shiver of excitement shot through his young body. He was going to be in charge of all of this someday. It was his to guard and his to protect. The great flame demon, Karura, and his sacred home. 

He could never quite decide if he’d entered the temple with the intention of touching the sword. Once he’d entered though, there was no stopping him. He was alone and the temptation was impossible to ignore. He had been raised on the stories of his grandfather and the battle against the ancient demon. He’d dreamed of the glory of Kurikara and wielding it in battle against some future, terrible demon and saving all the people he loved. He dreamed of drawing Kurikara from its sheath and unleashing Karura on whatever had dared to threaten the people under Tatsuma Suguro’s protection.

He was suddenly at the altar, standing on the cushion he was meant to kneel on. The sword was on its stand with the flames illuminating it from behind. The silver glowed in the fire light, looking as if it was already covered in flames.

He wanted to see. What child wouldn’t?

The decision changed his life but he couldn’t and wouldn’t hate himself for it. 

The sword was cold against his fingers. He couldn’t remember pulling the sword but he could remember the chill and how  _ wrong  _ that had felt. 

He was holding it in front of himself a second later. The light of the flames reflected off the blade and, for a wonderful and terrifying second, he thought that was Karura.

Karura never appeared. There were no flames, only a cold, empty, blade. 

Fear had kicked in at that point and he’d hastily shoved the blade back in its scabbard. He backed up, tripping on his own feet, and falling backwards. He landed in sprawl, eyes locked on the empty blade and the bright flames behind it. 

He hadn’t understood - couldn’t really - but he’d known it was a terrible thing. The blade was empty and nobody knew it.

Tatsuma didn’t want to get caught and he’d promptly scrambled to his feet. He could feel the eyes of the statues on him, watching his actions and condemning him for the knowledge he now had.

He ran from the temple without looking back and into the snow. The shock of cold made him gasp for air and he was suddenly terrified of being seen. He wasn’t supposed to be here and he was supposed to be with Yaouzou. 

Yaouzou. He needed to find him. 

He’d run because he was scared, stumbling through the snow and following the tracks of his friend. He found him at the edge of the forest with Nekosuke. 

His chest felt tight at the sight of his best friends and Tatsuma had suddenly wanted to cry.

He hadn’t. He’d grinned as widely as he could and thrown a snowball at the back of Yaouzou’s head. 

It splattered across his hair and robe, stark white against the dark black. Yaouzou tripping forward, nearly colliding with Nekosuke. 

“Hey!” Yaouzou spun around in indignation, hands flying to his hips as his baggy robe sleeves flapped through the air. Tatsuma watched him, panic rising in his chest as he fought the urge to look over his shoulder. He knew no one was there but he couldn’t help but feel like he was being followed.

It would be a long time before he got past that fear.

**Author's Note:**

> *Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō is the Japanese title of the Lotus Sūtra
> 
> Tag explanation: The character deaths will be in later chapters and include the characters who died in the Blue Night along with Fujimoto :( 
> 
> Me posting a work that's not about Ryuuji or Rin or any of the exwires? Yep! I love Tatsuma as a character and have been planning this story for a while. I've even written an outline, y'all. If I've made any huge errors, please let me know and I'll correct them where I can.


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